


A Marked Man

by pintpotjudas



Series: Marked [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 19:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pintpotjudas/pseuds/pintpotjudas
Summary: Illya Kuryakin does not have a soulmate tattoo.





	A Marked Man

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Marked 印记](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597346) by [Glock17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glock17/pseuds/Glock17)



Illya Kuryakin does not have a soulmate.

Napoleon sits on the floor of the safe house and stares blankly at the beige wallpaper. Gaby Teller is asleep and he is alone with the file on the Russian giant who tracked them through East Berlin.

It isn’t that the information is redacted, scrubbed away with a vicious black marker, or cut out of the microfiche file- no. It simply says ‘none’ in the little box where there should be a name.

‘Born without a tattoo’ is repeated several times in his notes. One doctor even gives his opinion that some of Kuryakin’s deep seated emotional issues might stem from this issue, but he doesn’t elaborate.

 _Quack_ Napoleon thinks.

He drinks half a bottle of vodka and falls asleep on the floor.

*

The next day he does his level best to make Kuryakin hate him.

It’s satisfying to watch his handsome face curl into a snarl, his pretty eyes flaring with anger.

At least if Kuryakin hates him he feels something for him.

*

Kuryakin replaces his father’s watch quickly with a cheaper, brassier looking timepiece. He clearly hates it and he fiddles with it near constantly, as if he is allergic to the leather. Napoleon nearly offers to steal him something nicer and then he remembers.

He takes the hotel receptionist to bed and doesn’t answer her question when she asks about his tattoo.

*

They don’t let each other die which he supposes is a blessing.

Illya’s hands are gentle as he pulls him out of the electric chair. Up close Napoleon can see how long his eyelashes are, how plump his bottom lip is. How full of rage his eyes are.

They accidentally murder Rudi.

Illya shrugs. “Only good Nazi is a dead Nazi.”

Hours later, they’ve added the Vinciguerras to their tally of dead fascists and Illya actually smiles at him.

Napoleon’s chest smarts.

*

He thinks that at least it will end now. He’s given Illya his father’s watch back, watched his hands shake as he pulled off the crude imitation and strapped the real one in place. The look Illya had given him was almost enough.

 _One nice thing. I did one nice thing for him_. Napoleon thinks.

Then Waverly arrives as the tape burns and everything goes up in smoke.

*

Gaby finds her soulmate in Istanbul.

He is a British journalist named Tomas and he has her name written on his ankle. She cannot stop smiling.

She subjects them to some truly unbearable popular music, but at least she bought a lot of alcohol.

She looks happy and carefree even as she falls asleep on the sofa her head on Illya’s thigh.

“What about yours?” Illya asks casually. He is slightly drunk his hair mussed from where Gaby kept running her fingers through it earlier. He looks beautiful.

“She died.” Napoleon replies.

Illya’s glass tilts and then rights itself.

“I’m- I’m so sorry.” He sounds it.

Napoleon shrugs.

“She didn’t love me back.” At least that much is true.

Illya looks pained.

“Am still sorry.”

“So am I.”

Napoleon goes to bed and sleeps in his pyjamas even though it is much too hot.

*

They go to London next and Napoleon is grateful for the cool rain, a reason to wear more layers.

Sanders shows up. The old bastard looks amused to see he is still working with the Russian.

“They want your files. The real confidential stuff.” He laughs his carcinogenic laugh and Napoleon wishes he’d drop dead.

Sanders had been so smug that night in East Berlin and this is why. He knows what’s in Napoleon’s file whose name has been written there since his capture.

“So glad I don’t have to see your fuck ugly face anymore.” Napoleon says inelegantly.

Sanders sneers. “Faggot.” Napoleon doesn’t argue, just stands and watches Sanders walk away as the cool rain falls.

*

Napoleon wishes the things in Illya’s files were true. That he is barely human or in control of his feelings that he is dangerous and difficult.

Instead, Illya is quiet when he is left alone and thoughtful when it comes to those around him.

Illya buys Gaby a toolkit and a pair of Paco Rabanne sunglasses for her engagement present. She throws herself into his arms and he looks delighted.

He smiles when Napoleon brings him coffee and he is angry when Napoleon puts himself in danger. He fights like a demon for his team.

Napoleon has seen him crouch to pet street cats, murmuring endearments in Russian.

He doesn’t have a soulmate but that does not make him a monster.

*

They spy on a French Count in Nice. He is thought to be funding terrorist activities. He is also cheating on his wife, his soulmate, with a much younger woman.

Illya’s lips curl in disgust. “Why do this?” he asks.

Napoleon shakes his head. “Maybe he’s bored? One person your whole life, Peril.”

Illya’s eyes flick towards him and away. “Were you faithful?”

 _To who?_ He nearly asks and then remembers the lie he span. The dead female soulmate.

“I told you. She didn’t love me. There was no point.” He picks up his binoculars and goes back to work.

It’s a port town, so it isn’t hard to find a sailor. The man frowns at his chest starts to read the words in a bad accent.

“Shut up.” Napoleon insists and the man does as he’s told.

Napoleon kicks him out as soon as they’re finished. He feels horribly empty.

*

In Faro Gaby tries to persuade him to go to the beach.

Napoleon declines.

“But it’s a beautiful day and no one is shooting at us.”

“Take Tomas and Peril.” Napoleon is dying of the heat. He cannot take his shirt off.

“Fine!” Gaby says storming out of his hotel room her sandled feet slapping on the tile floor.

They return in the early evening. Illya looks as if he’s been gilded. His skin is golden and even his hair is more blonde.

“You missed a nice time, Cowboy.”

“I’m not really one for beaches.” Napoleon says, another lie on top of countless others.

Illya smiles at him over dinner and Napoleon folds his arms over his chest.

*

“You need medical attention!” Illya is plucking at his shirt.

“I can do it myself.” Napoleon insists.

“Wound is on dominant arm. Let me-” Illya starts to unbutton his shirt and Napoleon’s instincts take over. He swings out with his left arm and strikes Illya.

Illya stumbles back blinking falling against the sink in the tiny bathroom. Napoleon stares at him his chest heaving.

“I- I’m sorry.” Illya says standing up carefully. His cheek looks red. Napoleon is filled with horror.

“I don’t like being touched when I’m injured.” Napoleon says.

It isn’t what he wants to say. That Illya did nothing wrong, that he’s the messed up one, that he can’t risk losing everything for the sake of what is written so blatantly across his heart.

“I- yes. I’m sorry.” Illya bids his retreat.

Napoleon sews four crooked stitches over the wound. It heals poorly, leaving a jagged and painful scar.

*

Weeks later and Illya hasn’t touched him again, save for one steadying hand on the small of his back after Napoleon was beaten by thugs. He is driven nearly to distraction by his need to touch and be touched. They are in New York. He knows a dozen places he could go and find himself a tall, blonde man who’ll fuck him hard and can’t read Russian.

He’s changing into a clean shirt when Illya walks into his room and stops dead.

Napoleon is also frozen, his chest exposed. Heavy black Cyrillic across his pale skin stretching from his sternum across his ribs. His heart beats furiously under the tattoo. Napoleon has seen hundreds of soulmate tattoos and his has always been the biggest the most unsubtle. He has had to buy heavier linen shirts to wear around Illya, lest the deep pigment of the letters show through fabric.

“That- that is my name.” Illya says.

Napoleon’s fingers work quickly on the shirt buttons.

“It’s not a big deal.”

And it’s the most absurd lie he’s ever told. _Culturally_ it’s a big deal. _Personally_ it’s a big deal. And Illya knows it.

“Why didn’t you-”

“Because it isn’t as if you can love me back! I’ve read your file.” Napoleon hisses.

Illya’s eyes go wide betrayed. “My- my anger-” he falters.

“Yes, that’s it.” Napoleon bites back, sarcastically.

Illya stares at him mutely.

Napoleon knows there is nothing else to say.

He leaves Illya alone.

*

He sits on a bench near the river and watches the seagulls.

It is dawn and it is cold but he can’t go back to his hotel room. He has walked all night having lost his desire for anyone else’s body.

Illya sits down heavily next to him. Napoleon is not surprised.

“KGB medical exams are very thorough.” He says.

Napoleon stares straight ahead.

“However. Men performing exams are not. Nearly twenty years active service and was never told to take watch off. No one asked me either. Name never recorded.” Illya holds out his bare left wrist.

The skin underneath the watch strap is pale apart from where it is black with the letters of Napoleon’s name. They didn’t ask him.

Everyone assumed he just didn’t have a soulmate.

Napoleon is silent because he is shaking so much he cannot speak. Illya begins to move his wrist away but Napoleon grabs his arm.

“Thought it was in my file.” Illya says.

“You thought I knew?” Napoleon asks.

Illya nods.

“How- how could you stand it?” Napoleon asks.

“Was happy just to be near you.”

And Illya had been nothing but kind.

Napoleon makes a broken sound. “But I lied to you. Repeatedly. I was so-”

Bitter. _Cruel._

“Hurt.” Illya provides. “You were hurt by the thought I would not be yours.”

“That’s a much more noble way of putting it. I made up a dead woman.” Napoleon says, in almost his normal voice.

Illya wraps his arms around Napoleon.

“People do strange things for love.”

Napoleon pushes his face into Illya’s neck and they both pretend he is not crying.

*

Later when Illya has let him leave the bedroom for longer than just a quick food break they tell Gaby. She starts to laugh.

“It was in the files I was given on you both.” She says.

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash and I love this trope. Also I wanted to see if I could write something with brevity. Hopefully it's alright!
> 
> Edit: Translated into Chinese by Glock17 :http://archiveofourown.org/works/11597346/chapters/26067357


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